


Spin, Leap and Hope You Don't Fall

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuri's relationship with Otabek is still new and fresh and is adamant that none of his rinkmates find out, lest they ruin it for him. In walks Yuuri, into the same cafe where they are having their first date.





	Spin, Leap and Hope You Don't Fall

Yuri pressed closer to Otabek, gaze scanning the crowd around them, but no one was looking their way. Yuri’s phone was propped up between their glasses of now-cooled tea, but Yuri wasn’t paying attention to what was there, but instead focusing on how Otabek’s hand felt curled around his own. He felt his cheeks warm, but with the fond, hidden smile that Otabek turned his way, Yuri felt the blush increase. 

 

This was their first official ‘date’, even if they hung out every moment they could, if Otabek was in Russia or during an international competition, or if Yuri saved up money to visit Otabek in Almaty. He had only been able to do that once, but he was determined to make it a habit, especially since it was in Otabek’s favorite club that he admitted to Yuri that he liked him. 

 

They had been comparing different outfits to the outrageous thing Yuri had worn in his first Senior Exhibition, Yuri teasing Otabek with “ _ Even I couldn’t do splits or spins in some of those.”  _ Not that he didn’t admire the fashion; the Kazakhstan street style was wildly different from Russia’s and Yuri almost had to pay extra for heavy luggage for the trip back, with all the clothes he bought to look ‘cool’. Otabek had only laughed and agreed, but his next words were quiet and sincere. “ _ I think you can pull of anything. That’s what so incredible about you and what I like about you, Yuri. _ ”  His expression had been intent; more serious than just a simple comment warranted and with the squeeze to his hand and the flush that streaked across Otabek’s cheeks, Yuri got it. 

 

_ I’m not as dense as katsudon _ , he smirked to himself as he thought back.  _ You could have had Viktor waving a flag, declaring his love and he wouldn’t have gotten it.  _

 

“Yura… are you even paying attention?” Otabek’s quiet voice brought him back and he blinked, shaking his head. “I… got lost in my thoughts,” he admitted, making a face. He turned back to the phone. He had picked out the video--  _ cats on ice _ \-- that had cats dressed up in skating costume facsimiles and the music of the programs that went with them in the background. Yuri saw where it was paused at and his face turned bright red and he thunked his head on the table, rattling the dishes and nearly tipping over the phone. 

 

“Look, they even made little sunglasses,” Otabek pointed out helpfully, as if Yuri hadn’t noticed, but he had to grin at the tease behind the bland tone. Anyone that didn’t know Otabek like he did wouldn’t think he had a sense of humor, but in Yuri’s opinion, it had a sneaky, wicked edge that he admired.  He hit play on the video again and the faint music of the song played, the kitten in the video wandering around the ‘ice’, before tripping over a full-sized leather glove.

 

“Oh look, you’re in it, too,” he said innocently. 

 

Otabek just shook his head and opened his mouth to respond when the jangling of the bell that opened into the cafe interrupted his train of thought. Yuri didn’t know  _ why _ he looked up, but some instinct told him to and he paled when he saw Yuuri Katsuki walk in.

 

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath. His hand tightened on Otabek’s, unwilling to let go, but hoping that Yuuri wouldn’t see. He didn’t seem to notice them, going straight to the counter instead, looking nervous as he ordered from the cashier. 

 

Otabek simply looked concerned at how nervous Yuuri looked. “He knows enough Russian to order now, right?” he asked. “It’s unusual to see him without Viktor.” Yuri’s head shot back towards the door, a chill racing down his spine. If he got out of here without Yuuri noticing and making a comment, then it would be okay, but if VIktor wandered in, he’d beeline straight for their table and Yuri would never hear the end of it. 

 

He lay a calming hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “Yura….I didn’t say Viktor was here, I was just surprised to see Katsuki alone.” They watched Yuuri for a few more moments, who seemed to relax enough to actually laugh with the cashier. Transaction completed without any major problems, Yuuri moved over to the counter and let his gaze wander around the cafe.Yuri felt his heart sink when Yuuri’s gaze paused on them, eyes widening in surprise for a moment before he smiled.

 

“Oh god, he knows and he’s going to blab and it’s going to terrible,” Yuri whispered. 

 

“Are you that ashamed?” Otabek gave him a look, eyebrows raising. “Yura, if you …”

 

“NO!” Yuri almost shouted the words and more heads turned towards them, and he sank down in his char. “Yuuri’s going to tell Viktor and then the whole rink will call it  _ adorable _ and how much I’m  _ growing up _ .” He made disgusted face. “I don’t want them to treat this like some sort of fucking joke. It’s not and I… I like you and I just… I want to be able to enjoy it without them making it into something weird.”

 

He looked at Beka out of the corner of his eye and saw the tension release from his shoulders and he gave Yuri another smile. “I’m glad to hear that, Yura,” he said quietly. “I like the time we have together, too, but…” he looked thoughtful as his gaze went back to Yuuri, who had already turned away and was accepting his to-go drinks. “I think you should have more faith in Katsuki.”

 

Yuri wanted to get up and confront Yuuri  _ now _ , so that there would be no misunderstandings, but he also didn’t want to ruin his date with Otabek; it wasn’t like they had a lot of opportunities and it burned him that this might all be made into one big joke at his expense when he went to the rink tomorrow. Otabek kept him in his seat, nodding to Yuuri when he walked back, giving a small wave and then he was gone.

 

“Don’t worry about it right now, Yura,” Otabek said softly, lacing their hands together. “Talk to Yuuri in the morning. I’m sure it will be fine.”

 

Yuri allowed himself one more worried look towards the door and then relented, shoulders slumping as he leaned against Otabek. “Yeah, … yeah, i guess you’re right,” he muttered. He  _ would  _ talk to Yuuri tomorrow. It wasn’t just going to be as polite as Otabek probably wanted. He had to make sure Yuuri  _ understood _ and if he had already ran off his mouth, Yuri would make him regret it. 

 

~

 

He got his chance when he was able to corner Yuuri alone in the locker room and he felt a thrill of satisfaction when Yuuri jumped at the sound of his foot kicking into the lockers next to him. 

 

“What the fuck was that about yesterday, katsudon?” he demanded. “You … you just showed up and --” he couldn’t really accuse him of much, not yet. Otabek had tried to calm him down afterward; Yuuri really hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t even come over and gushed or been annoying. He just…  _ smiled _ .

 

“That smirk,” he snarled and he was already regretting his words when he saw the panicked look flash across Yuuri’s face, but he had to get it all out or else he was going to explode. His chest felt tight as he tried to channel his panic and worry into anger.  _ Yuuri won’t take me seriously. He never has. _

 

“You better not go spreading rumors, piggy.” he snapped and the way Yuuri tensed made him almost want to hesitate. He hadn’t used that insult in almost a year. “I don’t need you and the old man gushing and being disgusting about me and Beka.” He was trembling with his anger and worry and he didn’t want Yuuri to see the latter. “Just keep your mouth shut. I don’t care about what you think about it. Just don’t interfere.” He pushed at him, eyes narrowed. “I’ll make you regret it if you do.” 

 

Yuuri’s shoulders slumped and he stepped away, shutting his locker door with a firm push. “I’m sorry you still think that little of me, Yuri, but I promise I won’t tell anyone. You deserve to have your privacy.” He hurried away before Yuri could let out any more of his anger, and even a justified “you better not” was lost to the emptiness of the locker room. 

 

He ignored the words and the way Yuuri’s expression broke before he had turned his face away. It was better this way; if he wasn’t serious about it right away, then it would all go away and what he had with Otabek would be tainted by the entire rink.

 

He would focus on skating today, even if he was still shaking. He had to put it all into his skating, his routines; it may have been the off-season, but if he had to start working on it now to beat out everyone that would wait to get their routines down.

 

Yuuri was already on the ice, talking with Viktor on the far side of the rink and neither one of them looked his way as Viktor demonstrated some bit of footwork and Yuuri following, his natural grace making the movements more elegant. Yuri wanted to keep that anger towards Yuuri, but even he couldn’t deny that Yuuri was talented--  _ he just might have a big mouth and he’s a known sap, him and Viktor both.  _

 

No one came up to him or mocked him and Yuri knew that if  _ Mila _ knew, she’d be all over him, cooing about how adorable it was that he was finally growing up. Georgi would try and offer advice and VIktor would just sigh and gush about how all perfect it was and how  _ Yuri _ found someone… he had played the scenario over in his head the whole night. 

 

His own skating suffered from waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never did.  _ Guess I scared him good.  _  He knew how to talk to Yuuri; intimidation seemed to work better than anything else. He was  _ sure _ of it. 

 

He didn’t get a chance for the rest of the day, though. Every time he got somewhat near Yuuri, the other would have turned away, chatting to Mila or Georgi or Viktor. When it came time for their break, he and Viktor were squished together on a tiny bench in the backroom, shutting everybody else out and completely happy at being able to feed each other bites of food. 

 

That sent a strange shot of jealousy through him. If he and Otabek did something like that, they’d be teased relentlessly and they’d never get any peace about it. Yuri ended up throwing something at them, just to break it up and vent his feelings about how disgusting they were in public.

 

He wasn’t blind, after that, Yuuri was actually  _ avoiding _ him, giving him looks mixed with a combination of annoyance and disappointment. Yuri told himself he didn’t care, but after nothing seemed to happen, he was starting to feel slightly guilty about how the morning started. 

 

_ Maybe I should apologize... _

 

~

 

The next day was a rest day and his last day with Otabek before he flew home and spent time with his family. Otabek had a large one and was incredibly close with them. Yuri felt overwhelmed at how  _ nice _ they were and how happy they were that ‘that boy that our Beks always liked.’ Even through his own blushes, Yuri got a wicked enjoyment from how Otabek’s family teased him roundly. 

 

“You’re going to come later this summer?” Otabek asked, as he had before. The two of them were relaxing without anyone else they knew around; Yuri wasn’t going to risk another incident. It was nice to just relax and not have to worry about running into any of his rinkmates or his fans. He hadn’t posted where he was or what he was doing and the risk was always lowered when he kept his movements more secret. He had learned over the last year. 

 

“Of course!” Yuri grinned. “Your sister skyped me yesterday, demanding to know when I was comin back; then your cousin pushed into the picture and then I could hear the kids in the background, too.” He rolled his eyes. “I was surprised your mother wasn’t lecturing me for missing the last family gathering.”

 

“She’ll do that in person,” Otabek laughed. “It just means that they like you--” he flushed and smiled a little. “I’m really glad… I knew they would, but I’m glad you got along with them so well, Yura.” He reached forward and pushed Yuri’s hair behind his ears. It had grown out more and some strands had come loose from the ponytail. His touch lingered a moment and Yuri thought it was a major accomplishment not shoving him away. As much as he cared for Otabek, sometimes instincts overwhelmed him and he wanted to hide from what he really felt. 

 

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool and they treat me like you treat me.” Not like a kid or a brat or someone that had to maintain an image. He was more polite around them than he was around the rinkmates he had grown up with, of course-- but they took even his outbursts in stride and with only mildly chiding looks. It made him want to try harder and not reflect badly on Otabek. 

 

“Speaking of which, how did the conversation with Yuuri go?” Otabek leaned back, expression serious. He knew how much it meant to Yuri to keep this private until he was ready to share it. It was different with family; they understood. Friends were something else, well-meaning, but Otabek’s rinkmates were too much like him. Quick to joke and tease and harp on until the joke went flat and either irritation or amused remained. 

 

Yuri tensed and then stared at the ground, a little ashamed. “Not well,” he admitted. “I kind of blew up at him, but…” he clenched his fist. “I was scared that he was going to be...be  _ katsudon _ about it and smile and hug and all that stupid, sappy shit. Or want to get involved and offer all sorts of advice…”

 

“That doesn’t seem like Yuuri,” Otabek rested his hand over Yuri’s, trying to relax him. “Viktor, however…” 

 

“That’s exactly the point!” Yuri griped. “If he told Viktor, then Viktor would have tried to have acted like some shitty older brother and talked about ‘safety’ in relationships and shit.” His shoulders hunched. He and Otabek had this talk and he wasn’t about to spill  _ that _ to anyone, either. “I don’t want him wasting his old man air on trying to talk to me about shit I don’t care about.” 

 

Otabek didn’t point out that Viktor would only have Yuri’s best interest at heart, but it wasn’t the time for that now. He grimaced a little as his older brother had sat down with him, with three cousins, explaining that safety was everything and to take things slow. That was a conversation he wasn’t sharing with Yuri and he didn’t think he ever would. He also didn’t want the version of ‘the talk’ from anyone in Yuri’s life. They were all deeply fond of and cared deeply about Yuri and their protective streak went a mile wide. It was hidden beneath teasing and barbs, but it was all there. 

 

“So what happened?” he prodded. “I really thought you and Yuuri were getting along better lately,” he said. 

 

Yuri flushed, ashamed. “I called him a pig and told him to keep his mouth shut.” he muttered, kicking at the ground. “Then I pretty much threatened him if he didn’t listen to me.” He buried his head in his hands. “It’s like Sochi all over again. He looked like he wanted to cry.” He didn’t actively hate Yuuri; he trusted him more than he wanted to admit, which was probably  _ why _ Yuuri looked so hurt. Otabek just stared at him when he lifted his head. “I’ll apologize to him tomorrow,” he promised. 

 

“Good, I know you’ll feel better when you do,” Otabek turned his head, kissing his cheek and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “But worry about that tomorrow.”

 

Yuri nodded and curled up under Otabek’s chin. It was harder now that he had gotten his growth spurt, it was worth it for how comfortable and safe he felt in his arms. He wanted to just enjoy himself now. He fished out his phone and tilted it so that he and Otabek were both in the picture and he could help but smile broadly at Otabek’s quiet look of satisfaction as his arms tightened around Yuri. He wouldn’t tag this and his phone’s wallpaper wouldn’t change, but he could at least look at it when he and Otabek were in different countries. 

 

~

 

The next day though, there was no sign of Yuuri or Viktor in the rink. There was only Mila and Georgi, and one of the junior skaters trying to wrangle more rink time from Yakov. Yuri could have told him it was a lost cause with Yakov, but he had bigger fish to fry.

 

“Where the hell is the old man and katsudon?” he demanded. “The idiots better not have overslept because they snuck into the rink again.” He had an apology to give, damnit, and it wouldn’t work if Yuuri wasn’t  _ here _ to give it to.

 

Mila blinked and stared at him in befuddled surprise. “They went to Japan, of course,” she said. “Didn’t you know, Yura? Yuuri said that he wanted to see his family during the off-season and he could stay with his family and practice at his home rink.” She gave a graceful shrug. “I don’t blame them, really. Now that Viktor’s retired, it’s not like they need to train here.”

 

“Except that’s a shitty small rink and this one is much better,” Yuri snapped. “And has more coaches on hand for when Viktor fucks up and better facilities …” he griped because he didn’t want Mila to see that he was hurt that they would just  _ leave  _ without explanation. What if Yuuri and Viktor decided to move to Japan for good?  _ I thought you were my friend, Yuuri. _ Even if he hadn’t treated him like one… 

 

“Now, now-- they’ll probably be back soon enough,” she ruffled his hair. “And even if not, you’ll see them at the next competition.” She winked to know that she saw right through his blustering. As much as he bitched about the sappy morons, they were his friends and Yuuri was the first person that saw him as an actual rival, even if the friendship had come later. 

 

“That’s not the point,” he huffed, angry that he couldn’t explain, pissed at Yuuri for running off like a coward instead of just confronting him about it. “Whatever, if that loser wants to ruin his chance at the next competition by downgrading his rink, then that’s his fault.” He didn’t let himself admit that it was that tiny rink of Yuuko’s that let Yuuri win the stupid Onsen on Ice, let him get a silver medal at the Grand Prix. 

 

Mila just laughed and dragged him back on the ice, spinning him around when Yakov was too focused on the junior skater to yell at him for goofing off. Once it was time for their break, he’d call katsudon up and yell at him. He didn’t give a shit at what time it would be in Japan. He had gone from trying to apologize to Yuuri to be being pissed all over again. 

 

_ Otabek is going to be so disappointed.  _

 

~

 

He was going to wait to do it; if he called now, he’d ruin any chance of fixing. He called Otabek first; laying in bed in the dark, trying to just capture the feeling of his boyfriend being there with him. 

 

“What if I completely fucked up?” he asked, biting his lip. As rocky as it was at times, he didn’t want to lose Yuuri’s friendship; he didn’t want them to just be regulated to rivals on the ice and old rinkmates. “He’s never spilled the beans on me before, but this…”

 

“This was more important,” Otabek’s practical tone soothed him. It felt good that he was agreeing with him, that his reaction wasn’t  _ totally _ unjustified. “It’s not like sneaking off of practice or hiding all of Viktor’s costumes. It’s personal, Yura. I understand, but I’m also glad you’ve really started to think about this.” He was quiet a moment. “You were really happy that Yuuri was coming to skate at your rink.”

 

“Yeah… cause he really is a good skater and even though he’s a blind, lovestruck  _ sap _ around Viktor, he’s still a pretty cool person at times, too,” Yuri admitted. He groaned and hid his face in the covers for a moment, phone still next to his mouth. “I really hope I can fix this, Beka. He ran off to Japan and the idiot will probably be happier there, but I don’t … I don’t want him to stay there. He said he was happy in Russia, too-- but his family is like yours. They’re really nice and they support him and …”

 

He was going to lose Katsudon to  _ katsudon _ and those weird girls and a family that didn’t insult him at every turn in a language he didn’t understand. Otabek was his first friend, but Yuuri was his second. 

 

“Just give it a few days, Yura,” Otabek yawned and apologized a moment later. “Let the both of you cool off; you said things you didn’t mean and while I’m sure Yuuri understands, he’ll probably appreciate a sincere apology and maybe an explanation.” 

 

Yuri nodded and flopped back down, Potya taking the opportunity to make herself comfortable on his chest. “Yeah, you’re right,” he huffed, fingers curling in her fur. “Hopefully before the next competition, at least.” 

 

“Just don’t fly out to Japan again to kick him through walls,” Otabek teased and his quiet laugh was the last thing Yuri heard before he fell asleep. 

 

~

 

He waited a few days as Otabek had advised; instead of calling Yuuri to either yell at him or apologize, he instead talked to Otabek about his day, the training-- how it was too damn cold in Russia, even in the summer and he hoped that Almaty would somehow be warmer. He let Otabek go on about the dj gigs he was doing to relax in between training and to find new songs and routines and inspiration in the mixes he created. 

 

It did wonders to relax his state of mind and by the time he was ready to call Yuuri, he knew what he going to say and it was going to start out with  _ I’m sorry _ . 

 

It was still early morning in St. Petersburg, but it was six hours later in Japan and he glanced at the clock and waited for Yuuri to answer, it was at least almost noon there. It shouldn’t be any problem to get a hold of Yuuri, or VIktor if Yuuri was practicing on the ice. He frowned when it rang for longer than he thought, but straightened when it clicked over. Yuuri’s voice came over, but he sounded groggy with his mumbled hello.

 

“Why the fuck are you still sleeping?” Yuri demanded, and then winced. That was not how the conversation was supposed to start out. “Isn’t it like noon in Japan?”

 

“... Yurio?” Yuuri sounded slightly more awake and Yuri heard Viktor’s mumbled voice before Yuuri pulled away. “We’re not in Japan, we’re in Russia and it’s…” there was a pause and fumble. “It’s not even six in the morning.” 

 

“What… you’re supposed to be in Japan!” Yuri frowned and tugged at his hair. “Mila said…” He was going to  _ kill _ that hag when he got to the rink today. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hiding out at your place all this time,” he snapped.  _ Definitely  _ not how this conversation was supposed to go. 

 

“I was in Japan,” Yuuri mumbled, and then there was a shuffle of sound and Yuri heard the click of the stove turning on. “VIktor and I just got back a few hours ago.” Yuri winced, feeling guilty, but Yuuri didn’t have to answer the phone. “What’s wrong, Yuri?”

 

“Hah?” Yuri bristled at the concerned tone. “What makes you think that something is wrong? I was calling to yell at you for running away, idiot.” He huffed and flopped backwards, annoyed that Yuuri was able to read him over the phone. 

 

“Ah….” Yuuri was quiet and for a moment, Yuri thought he fell back asleep. “I’m making tea and some breakfast. I know you probably have training, but haven't eaten yet. You know Viktor won’t wake up if you want to come over.” Yuri snorted. When Viktor was tired, he slept like the dead and he enforced it with wearing earplugs and an eye mask to block out the world. 

 

He didn’t deny or acknowledge Yuri’s words and he huffed, stomping towards the door. “Only because you’re making me food, katusdon,” he stated. “It better be ready when I get there.” 

 

Yuuri laughed softly. “Just don’t too long or maybe Viktor will wake up after all,” he threatened, and Yuri muttered a curse before he hung up the phone. Stupid Yuuri, making it seem like nothing bad had happened and acting like  _ Yuri _ was the one that needed some sort of comfort. 

 

~

 

True to his word, by the time that Yuri showed up, the food was just being set out on the table. He didn’t barge in like he usually would, tense at the idea that Viktor would move in at any moment and ruin things. 

 

Yuri looked at the meal in approval; simple and at least it would boost energy. He poked at the grilled fish and rice, grabbing at the fruit smoothie first. “You actually know what to do,” he smirked, trying to go for insults first instead of thank yous. 

 

“I have been skating since I was five, Yuri,” he said mildly, sitting across from him and pouring them both a cup of fragrant green tea. “You really need to let go of that first impression of me.” His tone was mildly chiding and Yuri flushed. That was the whole reason he was here and he cleared his throat awkwardly. 

 

“Look… about before,” he began, biting his lip. “I… “

 

“I understand,” Yuuri broke in, interrupting his apology, a half-smile on his face. It was still pained, but Yuuri shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “You deserve your privacy and you were worried I was going to intrude on that.” He gripped the cup of tea, before letting it go with a hiss from the heat. “I just don’t know what to say around you anymore,” he confessed. “At the beginning, you were disappointed in me and then you thought I was mocking you.” 

 

Yuri opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn’t  _ really _ . The first year, he was so angry at Yuuri, of how stupid he and Viktor were… of how everything seemed to go well for him now that he had gotten his head out of his ass. Yuuri wasn’t finished, however. 

 

“I thought we had gotten closer, but--then you shut me out again completely and I know it wasn’t about me and VIktor this time or me quitting or crying or any of the other reasons you hated me before.” The cup had to have been cooler now from the way Yuuri gripped it. “Then I saw you and ….” he didn’t say any names. “Then I understood a little more. I’m sorry that you don’t trust me anymore now, but I hope that in the future, you’ll accept my sincere words that I am happy for you. You seem much happier and… well,” he flushed and looked away. “I just wish you believed that I don’t want to interfere or take it away or mock it. Like before, Yuri, I am genuinely happy for you.” 

 

Yuri scowled down at his food, trying to think of a reply, but Yuuri had stolen all the wind out of his sails … again. Just like when he was fifteen and pissed as hell when he flew to Japan, Yuuri had just stood there calmly, confident in his own convictions and unshaken by Yuri’s angry words. 

 

“I was scared, okay?” Yuri finally snapped. “That you’d make it all into some big freaking joke and the whole rink would tease me and .. and there would be advice and patting on the back and all that stupid stuff. You’d expect me and Beka to be all gushy and sappy together like you and Viktor or be a freaking mess like Georgi. Beka and I are different.”

 

“I don’t expect anything, because I’m not you,” Yuuri said, puzzled at his words and then he sighed. “Ah… if I told Viktor anything, then he’d go all big brother on you and question everything.” He laughed a little. “He did the same to me for awhile, but I didn’t know until much later it was less ‘let me protect you’ and more ‘I’ll fight anyone for you.’” He tapped his fingers on the table. “I promised I won’t tell and that’s up to you if you ever want to.”

 

“I’ll probably tell them eventually,” Yuri mumbled. He was still tense, waiting for the flood of questions and teasing that never happened. Now he felt even worse, Yuuri was the type to just accept it and not pry. He had seen Yuri as a serious rival from the beginning and trained alongside him and always gave it his all, because  _ Yuri _ expected nothing less of him. He did the same for Yuuri, never holding back because he was going to surpass him in  _ every _ skill. 

 

Yuuri looked as if he wanted to ask something, and then he smiled and shook his head, pushing Yuri’s plate closer to him. “Eat up before you go to the rink,” he ordered. “I won’t be there today until later and then maybe after that… we can talk more, when you’re ready.” 

 

Yuri picked up a piece of fish and was about to take a bite when Yuuri reached out and squeezed his hand. “And Yuri?” he asked. “Thank you for trusting me.” 

 

~

 

In the end, it took him close to half a year to tell anyone else. It was partly out of fear that Otabek would get tired of him, that what he was able to give wasn’t enough. He had talked to Yuuri about in within that time and Yuuri had offered his own advice. 

 

_ What you are is who you are-- Otabek knows that and if he demands more from you than what you can give, then you need to first talk and see what compromises can be made. If either of you can’t, then you need to step back and see where you’re going next. It’s hard work, any relationship, but the two of you trust and listen to each other and I don’t think you have to worry. _

 

Yuuri had been right and when he had breached the conversation with Otabek fully, it was with reciprocated relief. 

 

It was only after all of that particular hurdle being cleared that he felt safe to tell the rest of the people in his life that he was dating Otabek. The teasing happened as he expected, but it was surprisingly low-key from Viktor and that had probably something to do with the look Yuuri gave him.

 

Mila had been insufferable for the first few days as he expected, but when she teased him about ‘bedroom manners mean that you don’t swear at your lover’ he had to laugh, because she had no idea and that was something that he didn’t need to share with the rink. Yakov only lectured him about keeping his head out of the clouds and keeping it focused on skating, but he didn’t push, either. 

 

It was far better than what it could have been or what he imagined it could have been. As he skated to a song that Beka had mixed for him, he had the idle thought that it was either because of Yuuri’s quiet support all this time or that he had matured enough to take it in stride. It didn’t matter in the long run. He wasn’t going to give up.

  
  



End file.
